Stretching in her bed to the sound of erotic music, Naomi looked around with the confused feeling that she should start screaming, but the teenager was too exhausted to do anything of the sort. Stepping out of her sheets while massaging her temples, Naomi felt as if someone was crushing her head with a burning pipe, and she took a few moments to analyze her surroundings. First, she realized that the annoying soundtrack came from the opening of some B-grade TV romance that her roommate was watching and wait a fucking minute.
Wait.
Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. She almost figured it out.
…
Why the hell was her food plate empty? What had she done to be denied such basic human rights?
“Hey, new girl. You sure took your sweet time to wake up! I know that school is a lie and that being competitive in this collapsing economy doesn’t mean anything anymore, but I don’t want to be stuck in this world long enough to see the consequences of not graduating.”
What. Why was that Instagram trainer talking to her?
Comfortably sitting on some unconscious man’s stomach, the girl in uniform was laying in the bed next to her and gave her a minty popsicle as if it was the most normal thing to do. Naomi had never met anyone whose legs represented 70% of their body weight before, and accepting the gift with perplexity, she wondered if there were specific rules when addressing a grasshopper. Turning her attention to the rest of the room, Naomi then noticed that another teenager had joined the party, but the latter was too busy having his cheeks pinched to participate in the discussion. But as Naomi was about to enjoy her prized possession, the girl realized that the cheerleader was nervously tapping on the headboard and giving her a wary look, as if she feared Naomi would fly out of the room at any moment. Oh, well.
That was more than enough to make her want to nope her way out of here.
“Ok, so before you do something insane like – God damn it, she jumped out the window,” cussed Madison as she looked at the group of elderly women enjoying their TV show. “How is that crazy bitch so fast? And why does she always fist-bump old women before she escapes??”
“I don’t know, but these charming l-ladies sure are friendly!” smiled Steve as the group of women giggled in delight. “Here are Benita, Ramona and Isabel! Ramona’s husband has been in remission for a few weeks, and they’ve c-come here every day to support their sister. Isn’t that lovely?”
“I’m pretty sure the weirdo went back to school, so we need to try and stop her before she falls back into Satan’s palm,” decided Madison as she grabbed her friend on her way out. “So now stop flirting and come with me, you can eat lemon cakes at my house later!”
Following Madison down the stairs as he waved his new friends goodbye, Steve was suddenly exposed to the most magnificent piece of machinery and the teenager struggled to hold back his tears. Parked on an ambulance spot with sassy confidence, a silver motorcycle was eagerly waiting for its owner and Steve could’ve sworn the vehicle winked at him. With its saddlebag and fuel tanks decorated with black stripes and leek stickers, the bike even made music with the movement of the wheels, and the student climbed on the seat with religious respect. When Madison turned on the engine and started to drive away, the two pieces of turquoise fabric that ornamented the bike’s steering wheel started blowing in the wind with elegance, like the pigtails of an anime girl who would be running late for class. You may wonder why I took an entire paragraph to describe a motorcycle when Naomi ran away and we’re transitioning to another location, and I would answer that you go and try to write a novel if you’re so confident with your organizational skills.
Oh, wait. You can’t write, now, can you? You vaguely remember trying to write a fantasy story when you were 13, and you sometimes shiver at the thought that you actually showed this piece of garbage to other human beings for feedback. It was probably a story among the lines of “Mary Lotter is a tomboy orphan girl who discovers during her 16th birthday that she is not only the chosen one from a long-lost prophecy, but also the heir of a magical kingdom, the reincarnation of the Goddess Hylia, the only known hybrid between a mermaid, a centaur and Bill O’Reilly, as well as the one true wielder of the Super Enchanted Ring of Wholesome. She and her friends created the Fellowship of the Bracelet to destroy the Mega Mean Black Evil Star, which is a lethal space station where her wicked twin sister prepares to take over the world. But she is also very shy and can never be wrong, and all the main characters survive. The end.”
So mind your own business and let me fantasize about a Hatsune Miku motorcycle, you philistine. And while you were complaining, our secondary characters actually made it back to school.
As Madison and Steve entered the courtyard, the duo quickly realized that Rosedale had fallen into chaos, and the cheerleader stepped over a group of bawling girls with a repulsed frown. Steve kept trying to ask his classmates for directions, but it was difficult to find anyone who wasn’t running in a circle, smashing their head against the window, or frantically listening to Celine Dion for comfort. Chasing after their students with desperation, teachers and police officers armed themselves with peaceful batons to reopen the dialogue, but pepper-spraying affection didn’t seem to have any effect. In just a few days, the school had turned into a no-man’s land, and people were already competing for the highest number of destroyed windows or vandalized murals.
Citizens of the free world have always chosen this method to get the attention of their government, and Rosedale students had too much respect for their ancestors to go against centuries of tradition.
“It seems like everyone is very upset over s-something,” observed Steve.
“HELP I’M ON FIRE AND I CAN’T SEEM TO STOP BEING ON FIRE”
“Oh, yeah. Apparently, they found Brittany in a dumpster yesterday, with an axe in her head,” said Madison as she climbed onto a bench to get a better view. “I guess that was the only way to finally give her actual eyebrows. She was always boasting about how she looked like Cara Delevingne, but I always told the bitch she shared more resemblance with Rick Sanchez.”
“Madison!”
“STOP RUNNING I AM TRYING TO UNDERSTAND YOU,” screamed a police officer as he shot a group of juniors in the back.
“What? I’m not shaming her. All I’m saying is that her face looked like a bushy, drunk Picasso.”
“No, look. Naomi is running away f-from us again.”
Climbing up the library’s wall with the popsicle still in her mouth, Naomi was attempting a bold escape, but Madison has had enough of this shit. Dashing to the edifice with a wave of insults, the cheerleader parkoured her way to the top of a lamppost and grabbed her friend’s arm like it was a shiny edition of Naruto Volume 1. As the girls struggled against one another in an epic mid-air fight, Madison’s impatience finally got the upper hand and the teenager managed to throw Naomi on a nearby roof. Jumping into a superhero pose as Steve won his own battle against the stairs, Madison smashed her feet against Naomi’s back and leaned over her friend with a breathless growl. For a bottomless added sugars vacuum, the crazy girl sure had stamina.
“Okay, Naomi, now you’re starting to piss me off. I didn’t leave the cheer squad to start running in dumb circles again, so you’re going to chill and listen to us. Satan has been controlling your life for the past 17 years and has planned for you to fall in love with either Boring Popular Guy or Boring Rebellious Guy, because Hell’s economy relies on horrible best-selling romance fictions. There is also a secret organization named the Red Eye Society that’s been trying to kill us because Steve and I are secondary characters, and we are gaining too much importance in the storyline. The group is led by a clone of Harry Style and Jumin – who happens to be a robot – and apparently, they have meetings where they read fanfictions and brainstorm new ideas for world domination. Also, we’ve been saved by Hugh Grant, who may or may not be God, and we need to find a world without an omniscient narration because a lot of fill-up characters are dying all around and it’s starting to get embarrassing. Do you have any questions?”
Naomi thought for a long minute, but the loud blonde girl seemed to have covered everything.
She was somewhat disappointed she was not in an alien simulation, but Naomi quickly considered that a vengeful quest against pop music and religious institutions was an acceptable alternative.
“Good! Now that it’s out of the way, we have more pressing matters to attend to,” sighed Madison. “How do you beat Satan? According to Marvel, you just put yourself in the middle of some creepy circle, destroy the political hierarchy of Hell and beat up the Devil while the place is destroyed by riots. I am a proud American, and I would love to remove a democratically elected leader for my political agenda, but anarchy takes a little too much time for my taste.”
“W-Well, we are no Wolverine, but maybe you had a point with the creepy circle part,” said Steve while going through the pages of his book. “I doubt we’re going to find any real s-satanic group that could bring us anywhere, but we have the Church! They should know what to do in case of demonic possession, sh-shouldn’t they?”
“So…You think that some old men worshipping a paternalistic figure in the sky are more trustworthy than a group of angsty kids worshipping a goat man underground?”
“Mmh, y-yes?”
“Heh, I guess that’s fair,” shrugged Madison as she turned toward the exit. “I gotta say, Naomi, Satan seems pretty chill about all of this. Doesn’t he hear us scheme and constantly talk about kicking his ass? Why hasn’t he thrown a meteorite on the school to try and stop us? I thought he had complete control over the narration.”
It’s not like a pathetic human could grasp the complex and sophisticated rules of omniscience, but an immortal being cannot just throw a meteor at a bunch of children and be on their way home, even though it would solve a lot of troublesome situations.
I do have great control of the narrative and I can see everything that’s going on in every corner of the world, but I can’t dictate the behavior of every bug I see. My area of influence is limited to Naomi’s purpose, which is to torture two conventionally attractive men with her emotional immaturity and charming indecision. The story is supposed to be driven by Naomi’s self-discovery, so I can only intervene when the scenario is in danger or if it’s to the benefit of her blossoming romance. As a result, I really couldn’t care less if you add more stages of character development in a vain attempt to find me. It just adds more pages to this literary mess, and it will allow me to charge readers 10$ more by throwing this nonsense in the “fantasy” aisle.
A child could probably figure this out faster, but I guess Madison’s head is useless if it’s not about carrying a stupid ponytail or coming up with Tik Tok captions.
“Why are you laughing? Is he talking shit about me??”
“It doesn’t matter, Madison. Let’s go, already! It’s probably not fun for Naomi to hear all those v-voices.”
Even though Naomi had been running in amnesic confusion just a moment ago, she knew that she hadn’t been raised in a religious household, and the girl wondered what could bring people to willingly wake up at 9 a.m. every Sunday morning. While she could understand why people could find comfort in the idea that earthly torments would be rewarded with eternal happiness in Heaven, Naomi had more of an Epicurean vision of death, which basically translated to “If I’m alive, I’m not dead, so I don’t care. And if I’m dead, I’m dead, so I still don’t care.”
Except if said death involved a car, of course, in which case Naomi would pray to every God available to escape the metal monster.
It reminds me of that one touching anecdote, where Naomi and her mother shared a patty melt on their neighborhood swings while enjoying the January snow. From their little hill of tranquility, the pair looked at the small town disappearing into the opal curves, and Naomi felt like an army of fireflies had fallen from the sky. That evening, the clouds looked like the watery reflection of a thousand rainbows, and the seagulls dove into the polychrome outlines as if they were made of velvet. Playing with her daughter’s braids like she often did when she was distracted, Mrs. Whitaker then told her something that would forever give her hope for the future. But for foreshadowing purposes, I will not go into further details.
You did not earn the right to our main’s character backstory yet, so in the meantime, please enjoy this subtle criticism of Christianism.
*
“Welcome! My name is Father Louis, and I will be the one assisting you with your exorcism inquiry today. We first need to make sure you have the right profile for the procedure, and we require believers to participate in a survey. Does that sound good to you?”
Naomi gave him the same look that U.S. Post Office employees give to their customers when they have the audacity to ask them for a receipt, and Louis felt each of his bones melt one by one. The girl already had the unpleasant surprise to discover that a small fee was required to enter the church, and while Madison had promised her free wine during the entire trip, it was apparent that the Kill Bill cup she had brought with her would remain empty.
Looking around her in quiet irritation, Naomi looked at the luxurious stained glasses, the elegant murals and the massive organ dominating the edifice, and the teenager was forced to admit that Catholics had a real sense of style. No wonder religion had such a tight hold on the townspeople, back in the Middle Age. When you spend most of your days carrying your emaciated body through the mud of abject poverty, there was no way you wouldn’t find hope in an institution whose official building was ten times bigger than everyone else’s.
“Yeah, pal, she’s not talking to you. I’ll take care of it,” yawned Madison as she pushed her friend to the side. “What do you guys need from me?”
“Here is the first question: have you ever felt joy at the sight of someone’s misfortune or misery?”
“Does that count if I was the one to make them miserable?”
“Y-Yes, it does.”
“Oh, then yeah,” chuckled Madison as Steve buried his face into his hand. “I was definitely stocked. In fact, I could say that I found her pain invigorating, and her suffering aroused me.”
“I suppose it was only one time, though? A tragic mistake from a naive child?” inquired the priest. “The most important part is to recognize one’s wrongs and repent for a better life.”
“Oh, no. I did it tons of times to many people, and I never thought twice about it. It’s kind of a personal hobby because I am like super good at making people hate themselves.”
“Father, p-please forgive my friend,” intervened Steve with a nervous laugh. “Churches make her a little a-anxious, and she doesn’t know what she is saying. We’re here to help a friend who’s going through a rough time, and the last thing we’d want is to offend you. R-Right, Madison?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah. Sure. I hate offending people. I know that you guys are more into flowers and other glittery stuff, so I can also tell you about the good things I do.”
“We would love to hear about that,” smiled Louis. “What selfless deeds have you done for your neighbor and loved ones?”
“Well, you can say that I served my community pretty well, if you see what I mean,” winked Madison as she spread her legs across the bench. “I can’t even count how many pity hookups I offered in my long school career. Many idiots would have never discovered the wonders of the female body if I didn’t step in, and I honestly think that my cherry lipstick saved some lives.”
“M-Mrs. Madison, this kind of language is really not welcomed between these walls,” murmured Louis as some distant followers looked at him in disgust. “And wasting your purity on random boys is certainly not why God placed you on this Earth! You renounce so many blessings that could make your life peaceful and fulfilling by turning yourself into an object.”
“You know, for people who are so freaked out by sex, you do seem to spend a lot of time obsessing over what we do with our genitals. I’m sure you wouldn’t be so scared of being turned into a sex slave if you gave it a try, once and a while,” grimaced Madison. “And what’s wrong with sex, anyway? I thought you guys were horny for family values, babies and whatever.”
“Well, we believe that intercourse should be reserved for creating life, not seeking carnal pleasure.”
“But how are people supposed to want babies if they don’t have an incentive? Would you buy a super gorgeous yet expensive Levis jean without removing the security tag, wear it under your dress, and show it off to your friends to make sure it flatters your bubble butt?”
“H-Have you stolen clothing from a store, Mrs. Madison?” blabbered Louis. “Have you engaged in illegal activities or fraudulent behaviors before ??”
“That’s a tricky one,” pondered the cheerleader. “Could you define ‘illegal’?”
“AH AH SO FUNNY,” shouted Steve as his forehead melted in sweat. “She knows what illegal means, of c-course. It looks like she’ll never stop joking! She’s always been the f-funny one.”
“Young man, are you sure you brought us the right person to be exorcised?” whispered the pastor as he leaned toward his guest. “I have been serving God for over 40 years, and never before have I seen someone with such a dire need for directions. I am sorry, but I don’t think the Church should associate with you, and I feel like I should go to the confessional just for having this conversation.”
“Oh, come on!” cussed Madison while rolling her eyes. “What happens to ‘Do not judge, or you too will be judged’ crap? Isn’t God supposed to love all his children equally, whether they are quiet psychopaths, stunning bullies, or unremarkable creeps? You guys are supposed to guide us toward salvation, but all you seem to care about are vaginas and politics. Satan is literally chilling inside my friend’s head! The main villain of your novel is one step away, and you cringe at some teenage stories?”
“We do accept and love everyone, silly, as long as you don’t walk away from your divine purpose!” smiled the pastor. “We just feel that people who are different from us should burn in hell and suffer for all eternity. We also advise them to take advantage of their shameful lives to realize what abominations they are and renounce their freedom of expression so we can feel more comfortable. Do you guys want coffee? Theresa makes the best raisin cookies in town.”
If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
Can you tell that I am not a big fan of religion, so far?
Apparently, Christians do represent 10% of the publishing market and maybe I should be careful not to hurt their Christian little feelings, but I’m pretty sure the curse word on the cover will drive them away anyway. Seriously though, what’s their issue with me? I’m the victim here!
Who do you think picks up all the trash that you keep throwing in Hell? You talk ONE naked chick into eating some fruit and you become evil incarnate! Throw a little temper tantrum as an inexperienced Archangel, maybe discuss the idea of democratic elections and there you go! Banished to the depths of the underworld for all eternity. Have you seen anyone else hold a grudge for that long? And honestly, people shouldn’t be that psyched about Heaven, anyway. It’s a lot of Friends quotes, stamp collection and coconut yogurt. Try googling “biblically accurate angel,” and we’ll see if you want to spend the rest of your immortal life inside a Marylin Manson cover.
“All right, so it wasn’t a great start,” sighed Steve while massaging his eyelids. “I should have known that Madison and the Church wouldn’t be a good c-combination.”
“Well, how about this: God did have a metal side in the Old Testament, right? Destroying cities with sulfur and fire, drowning the entire planet in a blind rage, killing newborns…So, how about we just bring back horrible people and crucify them inside the chapel, as a sign of goodwill? You take care of the giant cross, and I come back with my mom’s friends from Pilates.”
“Please do not take offense, but this is a really b-bad idea.”
“What? So everyone gets to murder sinners and invade people’s personal lives but us?”
But as the pair continued arguing over the ethical implications of drowning people in holy water, Naomi suddenly dropped a massive pile of coins and dollar bills on the priest’s desk. The sound of newfound wealth resonated so gracefully against the walls that Madison thought the church’s acoustic had been conceptualized for this very purpose, and as Father Louis stared at Naomi’s offering with a virtuous appetite, Steve looked over his shoulder to confirm his suspicions. If they weren’t going to Hell before, their fate was now secured.
“…Did she take money from the d-donations box at the entrance?” he whispered in horror.
“I would make out with her so hard right now if she was into that kind of stuff,” cackled Madison.
“W-Well, thank you for your generosity,” smiled Louis as he slid the money into a bucket. “Under these conditions, I don’t see how we could turn away a soul in need, and I will immediately call my contact from the Vatican. Please come back in several weeks with a psychological evaluation from a medical provider, and we’ll be able to set up an exorcism.”
“Several weeks? Dude, Naomi doesn’t have that much time,” said Madison. “She is haunted as fuck, people are trying to kill us and she needs help fast. Can’t you just exorcise her right now?”
“Exorcism doesn’t work quite like this, my child,” explained the priest. “We need to exclude any chance of mental or physical health issues. We also need the authorization of the local bishop and the Vatican, along with the support of a trained exorcist, and we also need to observe specific symptoms of demonic possession. Your friend entered the House of God without problems, so it doesn’t really help your case. And to be honest, I really don’t think-”
But as he was about to add something irrelevant, Naomi suddenly exhaled in loud irritation and started walking toward the altar. Tearing out the tablecloth as she destroyed the flower arrangements, the student then grabbed the nearest candelabra and started spilling oil on as much surface as possible. Taking a few steps back, Naomi then stretched her arms in solemn meditation and without a word of warning, the teenager threw herself at the improvised sliding rink.
None of the people present had ever witnessed such a spectacular fall, and this fateful day would later be remembered as the birth of new-age capoeira, or the old gods endlessly convulsing in slow-motion. As Naomi crashed against every pillar, rolled over every bench and fell against every window, the teenager suddenly had a brief vision of the Lord and Savior.
While her collarbones played Twister with her ankles and as she felt the weight of every molecule against her skin, the teenager finally made her peace with the Creator and the pain was no more.
But as Naomi was going to become one with infinity and seize the box of fried chicken, the cold touch of the marble floor brought her back to reality and the girl felt as if she rode a particularly resentful roller-coaster. Standing up from the ground with a few grunts of pain, Naomi looked up at the priest with a defiant look and Louis answered with a light nod of amusement.
“… All right. Okay. I, hum, have never seen quite anything of this kind. Please excuse me.”
Nope. Not today. Not paid enough for this bullshit, thought Father Louis.
He had just seen that girl’s neck make a right angle enough times to create a whole new sphere of geometry, and he hadn’t joined the Church to start questioning things on his own.
As he was helping Naomi put her knee back in the right direction, Steve suddenly noticed that the priest had disappeared from the premises and a moment later, the distant sound of screeching tires resonated in the backyard. But before anyone could comment on Louis’ desertion, another member of the clergy made its way to the chancel and started turning the pages of his Bible with indifference. Since the new priest was the first character not to burst into a billion words so far, Naomi quickly realized he would be used as a plot device or an immediate threat, and the teenager waited for his introduction with a suspicious glare.
“Greetings. My name is Jacob, and I will be taking care of your exorcism today. Please excuse my colleague: he has been quite shaken by what he witnessed, and he will be taking some time away while we resolve this matter. Should we start the ceremony?”
“Good job, Naomi! You caused a man to have an existential crisis,” exulted Madison. “Man, that’s my forever dream to terrorize someone into renouncing their faith! What a rush of power!”
As a first test, Jacob sat Naomi down in the middle of the church’s crossing and started presenting her with several religious artifacts with stern professionalism. However, no matter how many rosaries were around Naomi’s neck or how many ashen crosses were drawn on her face, the ritual didn’t seem to have any effect and Jacob continued reading his Bible with a thoughtful nod. He then attempted to read a few lines and scream Latin incantations, but the only ungodly reaction he managed to obtain was a long scream of anger when Jacob bumped into Naomi’s cup.
“Mmh. I see.”
Abandoning his exorcism tools on the side of the church, Jacob did the last thing anyone expected from a priest and suddenly threw a dagger in Naomi’s direction. But as the blade was about to pierce the girl’s skull, Naomi’s chair broke without warning and the student fell into a wooden mess before the knife could hit her. As Madison and Steve started shouting in enthusiastic/terrified interjections, Jacob rubbed his chin with interest and took a few steps toward the control panel. After a push of a button, the crystal chandelier that illuminated the dome suddenly escaped from its hook and fell right on the teenager’s head in an infernal clatter. But as Madison was about to capture the prank of the century, the force of the fall broke down the shimmering pieces and the chandelier parts finally crashed against the ground, forming a perfect circle around Naomi’s body.
“Mmh. Fascinating.”
As Steve was trying to recover from his panic attack, Jacob disappeared into the church’s backroom and came back with several books under his arm. Immediately, all the lights started blinking in threatening unison and the priest sat in front of Naomi while ignoring the blood that started leaking from every statue. Ah! I see what this punk is trying to pull.
Is he really trying to reverse-exorcise me? Does he think I’m going to fall for his tricks when I have been following these charity cases for more than two weeks? Ah! Plus, demonic possession is so 1560. I used to do all the vomiting and walking like a spider thing because I thought it made me look cool, but seeing The Exorcist made me realize that I may have been a little extra.
Look at him now, pulling some obscure works of fiction to try and make me insecure. To Kill a Mockingbird? The Great Gatsby? Yawn. Please. Who wants to read genius work, these days? People want to kiss an ass they can relate to. They want some loser who started writing in their mother’s basement or hiding from their boring husband, dreaming of a romantic life where a mysterious Adonis would take them away from their miserable town to introduce them to a new world of fantasy. People are simple. They just want money and believe that a billionaire with mommy issues could fall for the bland intern. This is almost sociology when you think about-
The Heart of Darkness? How DARE YOU?!
I am the prince of darkness! And the only dark thing I’ve seen in this overrated and mind-numbing, piece of garbage was the tunnel of existential dread which I found myself lost into! Conrad might be the only author in this entire universe who managed to make racism, imperialism and badass sailor stories sound boring! Get this sorry excuse of classical literature out of my face or I swear that I will- I created a poltergeist, didn’t I?
All the crosses turned upside down, Naomi randomly started speaking Greek and all the Jesus paintings suddenly became R-rated caricatures of Joseph Conrad. Yep. My bad. I always knew that my hatred for this cursed author would come and haunt me, one day or another.
“All right. It seems we’re dealing with a typical case of ‘plot armor,’ or what ignorant people may call ‘main character syndrome,’” declared Jacob as he took some more notes. “Basically, it means that nothing can happen to this girl until her story’s purpose is accomplished. The rules of reality will continuously be bent to her advantage and the host cannot be harmed as long as he is occupying Mrs. Whitaker’s body. I am sorry, but it seems like the end of your journey.”
“Well, that sucks,” sighed Madison. “I guess we’re going to try our luck with another religion, then. Maybe we should have started with the actual chosen people and buttered up some Scientologists just to be sure. Thank you for your service and see you never!”
“I’m afraid it’s not going to be possible,” said the exorcist as he took out a ritual blade. “You two can leave, but your friend will be terminated immediately, and her body will be brought to the Vatican for further examination.”
“What?! Why in the world would you do this?!” exclaimed Steve.
“I don’t think you realize what kind of threat Mrs. Whitaker represents for the rest of the world. When I am talking about ‘bending rules of reality,’ I’m not talking about cute little slapstick gags that you can record for your own amusement. She could suddenly turn oxygen into a toxic fume, divide every conceivable reality by 0 or turn the sun into a giant floating head of Kanye West reciting the laws of robotics in Icelandic. Do you really want your children to grow up under the dim light of a controversial, yet fashionable presidential candidate?”
“Kanye West being a presidential candidate is beyond the point,” said Madison as she grabbed Naomi’s wrist. “We’re not just going to let you take our friend to die! The whole point of our visit was to free her from Satan’s influence! She is a victim too, so why won’t you help her?”
“I wish it could matter, Mrs. Mardashian, but your friend has no control over what the narration can do,” sighed Jacob as he walked toward his targets. “Her simple existence is a danger to every lifeform on this Earth, and it is my duty to protect all God’s children from harm – aside from divorcees, unmarried couples, gays, suicide victims, pagans and other people I don’t like because of my personal values – Now step aside, so I can exercise our Lord and Savior’s will.”
“Damn, you guys really make up the rules as you go! Where do I sign?”
But Father Jacob wasn’t quite interested in welcoming new members and a moment later, he had launched himself at Naomi with a swift curve of his weapon. Escaping the blade with a minor cut on her cheek, the teenager tried to grab a ceramic pot in self-defense, but everything was glued to their stupid tables. Running around in circles in the hope of tiring her assailant out, Naomi quickly realized that Jacob would not be defeated so easily, and the teenager threw herself to the ground to escape a new attack. But as she looked over her shoulder with nervosity, the teenager noticed a small opening under the confessional, and Naomi suddenly saw that Steve was waving at her from the other side. Rolling inside the tunnel before Jacob could reach her, the girl crawled into a small break room and Steve took out the spider webs from her curls with panicked haste.
“He knows where this passage leads to! We need to go up right now!!”
Grabbing his friend’s hand with a shiver, Steve rushed toward the stairs and both teenagers lost themselves in hysterical screams when an ancient axe crashed its way through the door. Rushing up the helical stairs with the power of survival instinct, the pair made it to the top balcony and walked toward the gigantic organ with careful steps. But as Steve made it to the instrument’s platform with a relieved sigh, Naomi suddenly felt someone grab her hair and the girl was thrown a few feet back. Shielding herself from Jacob’s axe with a gargoyle, the teenager climbed on the stone handrail to gain more space to run but the priest had seen the same movies as her. Stepping into the banister with confidence, Jacob relentlessly swung his weapon at his target and as Steve pled for the fight to stop, Naomi realized she would soon run out of garlands to throw at her enemy. She had been too busy all those years making lists of her favorite Pop tart flavors to worry about cardio, and while she always promised herself she would never die in public, the odds were not exactly in her favor. Looking down at the cathedral’s nave while wondering where the hell Madison was when she needed her, Naomi saw that the cheerleader was making a giant pyramid with the benches of the congregation, and it suddenly hit her.
Since she couldn’t have her crucifixion, Madison had decided to experiment with a witch trial, and never before had Naomi felt so relieved to find someone as insane as her.
Turning toward her opponent with newfound strength, Naomi charged at the exorcist with an anime scream and Jacob wondered if it would be culturally insensitive to stay silent. But as the priest got lost in ethical considerations, Naomi locked her arms around his back and both fell down the balcony in a theatrical fashion. While the teenager got tangled into a Christmas ceiling decoration that magically happened to fall at that exact moment, Jacob crashed into the chairs a few floors down and Madison raised her thumbs in victory. Naomi would have joined the celebration if she didn’t have several paper angels stuck inside her mouth, and as Steve tried to free her from the sparkly fabric, the part-time model took out her lighter with an ominous grin.
But first…
Don’t do the Hunchback of Notre Dame thing, don’t do the Hunchback of Notre Dame thing.
She did the Hunchback of Notre Dame thing and started screaming “Sanctuary” while holding the unconscious body of the exorcist above her head. Everyone around her was left damaged forever.
God fucking damn it.
It only took a few minutes for the whole building to burst into flames, and as they watched the church’s spire slowly disappear into a column of smoke, the trio suddenly realized that the fire had spread to other buildings nearby. Shrugging the incident off with a sip of communion wine, Naomi considered it a new form of urbanism and even threw a few more chunks of wood to keep the inferno going. But as Madison was live streaming the whole event, the cheerleader suddenly realized that the alibi of demonic possession might not work well in a court of law and she turned toward Steve with curiosity.
“Are we going to Hell for this? I didn’t believe Hell existed a few weeks ago, so I don’t know how many points I lose for setting a church on fire and indirectly killing a priest.”
“W-Well, the fact that you’re using the blaze to light up your cigarette may answer your question.”
“Rad. I always knew I would be the first Influencer to have a billion followers. Do you think they have Wi-Fi down there? Damn, I should have asked Jacob before I turned him into a barbecue.”
*
“Welcome home! You smell like smoke and crime, baby girl, have you been partying with the gals from Zeta Tau Alpha, again? I hope you didn’t forget your extinguisher and adrenalin shot!”
The Mardashian mansion pretty much matched what you could imagine when hearing a name like this. Ignoring her father who was dancing in the living room with his wife, Madison threw her dusty clothes on the corner of the entrance hall and welcomed her friends inside. Naomi had biked in front of the mansion several times on her way to her part-time job and never before had she seen so many stairs in a single house. While the exterior of the house looked like a small French Renaissance castle, with its cherry roof and granite towers, the inside was as comfy as a Christmas chalet, and Naomi threw herself on the sofa with a delighted sigh.
Adrian and Michelle Mardashian decorated each room with a different atmosphere, and while the tearoom had an Arabic influence with its numerous rugs and exotic lamps, the kitchen had a Mediterranean warmth that made Naomi want to try a thousand different salads. But as she started evaluating the significance of such a horrific thought, the girl suddenly saw a wave of Victoria's Secret models walking down the imperial staircase and Naomi wondered if she was still under the influence of toxic fumes. Instead of making their way to the nearest Fashion Week, however, the disturbing army of alluring women made their way to the dining room and the teenager realized the celestial vision was nothing more than Madison’s family.
“Those are my sisters: Melissa, Morgan, Mackenzie, and M’Karen. My grandmother Karen passed away the year she was born, so my parents had to make a compromise to prevent the rest of the family from burning our house,” added Madison as her friends nodded in understanding. “Make yourselves at home, and I will try to keep my mom from embarrassing us all.”
Following Madison to the dining room, Steve and Naomi entered a massive chamber whose windows offered a panoramic view of Rosedale’s forest, and Steve couldn’t hide his wonder when a chair moved on its own to offer him a sit. As she was admiring the plant-covered ceiling and the shoal of fishes swimming in the walls, Naomi flinched when several glasses emerged from the stone table, and the girl spent the next ten minutes staring at every piece of furniture in startling paranoia. You could say that being haunted by a charismatic narrator can make you a little jumpy.
“I heard you kids have been pretty busy these days!” laughed Adrian as he set up some plates in front of his guests. “I hope those adventures made you hungry because it’s Pancake Friday and this is where I shine. Which flavor would you like, sweetie? How about all of them?”
Never before Naomi had felt this attracted to someone who was wearing a man bun.
“It’s so nice to finally meet our beloved daughter’s friends!” smiled Michelle as she leaned closer to her guests. “She simply won’t stop talking about you and that’s how I knew you were very special fellas! So please, tell me everything: how did you guys meet? What’s going on with your lives? It always brings me back when I see young people having fun!”
“Mooooom, stop being so nice! It makes everyone uncomfortable!” mumbled Madison as she hid her face inside a napkin. “No one wants to talk about the underground cults we’ve been fighting!”
“Well, one day Naomi went berserk and destroyed the entire c-cafeteria after someone spilled out her food,” smiled Steve while adding more syrup on his pancakes. “And somehow, destruction of public p-property opened a world of fourth wall breaking and metafiction that brought us all together. It has been pretty fun so far, even though I didn’t think it would be so d-deadly.”
“Oh, dear! It sounds like a lot of commotion!” laughed Adrian. “Was it fun, sweetie?”
Naomi considered the question and decided it was an appropriate time to be emotional.
“Yes, really fun.”
“Oh, darling, doesn’t it remind you of that cruise in Sri Lanka? We were so high on mushrooms that we didn’t realize the boat was being attacked by pirates! The boat was on fire, we connected with the local folklore, yadda, yadda, yadda. Long story short, we ended up sharing a scotch with Princess Diana,” laughed Adrian as he kissed his wife’s hand. “That was actually where Madison was conceived! This may be why she has such an affinity for South Asian cultures!”
“Uuuuuuuuuuugh.”
“In any case, your p-pancakes are amazing, Mr. Mardashian!” smiled Steve as Naomi gave an aggressive nod of approval. “And you served them in ceramic plates too, on an actual t-table! I am very thankful for you to be s-spoiling us this way.”
“Ceramic? Is everything okay at home, dear?” enquired Michelle. “You do look really pale, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to remember what you look like! Isn’t that just fascinating, darling? Doesn’t it remind you of that poor Marjorie’s face, after that tragic water polo accident?”
“UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGH.”
“Are you feeling okay, cutie pie? You’ve been sighing for quite a while, now,” worried Michelle as she touched her daughter’s forehead. “I hope you’re not having a fever; I’m always telling you that you’re working too hard. And now that you’re involved with evil spirits, I’m afraid that-”
“God damn it, mom, stop destroying my life!!”
Storming off the table with a frustrated cry, Madison dashed to the glass elevator and very slowly disappeared to the fourth floor, as everyone painfully watched her struggle with the buttons. One must recognize that it was an exploit to keep looking so rich while escaping their caring parents, and as they exchanged a resigned look of acceptance, Naomi and Steve followed their spoiled friend out of the dining room. Finding her was not a difficult task, despite the 43 different rooms that were listed on the staircase map, as the pair only needed to follow the distant sound of enchanted swords that reverberated from her bedroom.
While Madison’s personality was a chaotic mix between Twitter and Tank Girl, she had an impeccable sense of organization and Naomi felt as if she was entering a sterile chamber. Each video game, manga, figurine and comics collection had been carefully labeled and organized in alphabetic order, and even the waifu plushies that were spread across the room all had the same color. Once Steve got used to the posters’ bright colors that covered the walls and ceilings, the teenager finally saw Madison on the other side of the room, wearing her Oculus and fighting invisible enemies with unrestrained rage. While her friend walked to the cheerleader to get her attention, Naomi took a few minutes to admire the collection of swords, magic wands and katanas that were hanging on the wall. Although the girl was still seriously freaked out by the intensity of Madison’s passion, she had to concede that the model was one otaku not to fuck with.
“Are you o-okay, Madison?” asked Steve once her friend finally collapsed on the floor.
“Who the hell are you?” grumbled Madison as she lifted her headset.
“Oh! Sorry, I am-”
“Just kidding, dude. No way I would forget this hilarious expression,” she laughed with a bitter sigh. “What do you want? Do you think you’re better than me, now that the truth is out?”
“What truth?”
“The truth that my family is laaaaaaame,” whined Madison before blowing a raspberry. “So embarrassing! I’m out there trying to create a brand, doing my best to remind nerds who’s boss and tweeting iconic punchlines, and here they are destroying all my work! Who would want to keep up with the Mardashians with such bland characters? We wouldn’t even get a second season! So much potential wasted! I don’t even think my mother can curse without some butterflies coming out of her mouth.”
“I don’t know, Madison, I really enjoyed my time with your f-family. You know, I never really get to eat around a table like this and t-talk about my day. I don’t really get to talk to anyone about anything, really,” laughed Steve as he sat on the side of the bed. “My father left us when I was very y-young, and my mother hasn’t been doing very well since then. I think she’s a little angry at me for what h-happened to our family, so she doesn’t have many nice things to say to me and she’s generally p-passed out on the couch when I come back home. It felt nice to have a warm d-dinner with people who are interested in what their daughter is doing, and who have passions beyond throwing d-darts in the living room.”
“This one doesn’t sound so bad,” observed Madison.
“She uses her echography pictures as a t-target.”
“Jesus fuck.”
Even Naomi thought that was a little fucked up, considering the current political context.
“All of that to say: there’s n-nothing to be embarrassed about,” smiled Steve. “I think your family is pretty awesome, and so are you! You’re b-beautiful, you’re good at sports, you’re popular – even though I feel it’s more out of f-fear than anything else – and you even know how to draw! Honestly, I don’t know what there is n-not to like. You don’t need anyone else to keep the show going, and I am s-sure there are other superficial and sadistic people out there who would agree with me. It may not mean much to you, b-but I am proud to call you my friend!”
A long silence followed Steve’s heartfelt declaration and Naomi closed her eyes with melancholy. She had just realized that she enjoyed the family dinner for the exact same reasons, and the wave of memories that came storming through her mind was almost too much to bear. Naomi had kept herself from remembering what it was like to live with other people because it was too painful, or maybe because it was easier to pretend the old days didn’t mean anything. The innocent bickering in front of the TV, the morning rituals before going to school, the same recycled stories that came out at every dinner, the stupid jokes in the park…Naomi never took the time to realize what she had lost because if she forced herself to keep moving, it would mean that she never lost control.
That nothing was brutally taken from her, four years ago.
Her cheeks slightly reddened by shame, Madison finally let go of an irritated sigh and patted Steve’s shoulder in a clumsy gesture. It was the first time in her entire life that someone had managed to stop her from talking, and that certainly was an enlightening experience.
“…Well, you can come whenever you want. My door is always open for unmemorable nerds.”
“R-Really?” beamed Steve. “You don’t mind?”
“Yeah, yeah, really. So don’t get all mushy about it, I just took pity on you.”
Hum, hum. If you are not too busy swimming in the tears of your service dogs, Naomi, I would ask you to take a few steps away from the scene and give me a few minutes of your time.
I truly think we started off on the wrong foot, you and me. At first, I thought that it was your asexuality that made you uncomfortable with human contact and awkward with emotions, but I realized that you’re just an unlikable person! You’re an emotionless freak whose only purpose is to destroy the hard work of others and make everyone fear for their lives! I chose the one person on Earth who respect people neither as romantic partners nor as simple human beings! How lucky! But anyway, that’s water under the bridge now.
Now that I can understand you, I feel that I can make both of us happy and you can stop stuffing your ears with cotton to silence me. Listen: I get that you’re not interested in getting into a relationship, but maybe you’d like to get your parents back? I am a supernatural being after all, and I have many powers that are beyond your mortal comprehension. For each date that you accept to go on, you get a little more information about what happened that day, and I can even give you a glimpse of a conversation. And in a few years, more or less, you get to see your parents again without having to bear the burden of their disappearance. What do you say? It seems like a fair bargain in exchange for true love and a few decades of your life. I know I have that reputation of tricking people into giving me their souls, creating all vices on earth and everything, but I am a pretty chill guy when you get to know me. Just say the word, and all this pain can go away.
“Bite me.”
I see. I take it that you won’t stop coming after me, then?
“No.”
And you won’t give Logan or Josh a chance?
“No.”
Okay, then. Don’t worry. No hard feelings at all. I’m glad we could have this conversation and that you could get all your feelings out. I feel like we reached a turning point in our relationship and that we can move on to healthier bases.
But what is this? Are those police sirens that I hear in the distance? Oh my, it seems like they are coming this way in great numbers and that there’s nowhere you can run to escape this. Who would have known that discovering a corpse, participating in a mysterious organization’s ritual, claiming to be possessed by the Devil and burning a church may actually have consequences, even in this universe? I am going to tell you this real quick, while we wait for the police and emergency services to make it to the top of those billions of stairs. You are only alive because I allow it. You were able to go on quirky shenanigans with your stupid friends because it amused me, and you were only able to make a few moves against me because I didn’t want to disturb the narration.
So I hope you had fun, Naomi. Because now, it’s my turn to dance.